“This is just step one to getting our girl back,” Chris said. “Just take it one step at a time.”
“Okay.” I could do this.
I would make her fall in love with me.
Because they were right. There was more than just magic and bonds and fate between us. So much more.
I just had to figure out how to start over, but I wanted my Tessa back. I couldn’t get this close and lose her all over again.
I had to fix this before anything else went wrong.
Because knowing Tessa’s luck, something would happen, and I had to be ready to fight for her like I’d never fought before.
Chapter Seventeen
DASTIEN
They’d kept Tessa one more night at the hospital, and while she was there, I moved in across the hall from her apartment.
Apparently, Michael paid the guy who lived there an ungodly amount of money. I would’ve said something about paying him back, but I knew he didn’t care. He had more money than anyone I knew. When you grew up with werewolves with long lives to accumulate wealth, then that was saying something. If anything, he’d be insulted if I offered.
I was just glad to have a place so close to her so quickly. I wasn’t sure how I’d repay him for thinking of that, but I would figure something out.
Samantha left the hospital when Michael, Axel, and I came to check out the apartment and get the keys. It was after nine, and she said her mom wanted her home. I wasn’t sure what more she could do for us anyway, so that was fine.
Chris and Cosette got to the apartment shortly after us. They left Claudia and Lucas to discreetly watch over Tessa. Now that we finally found her. No one was taking her again.
Together, the rest of us helped the guy box up his stuff and move it into another apartment in the building.
He thought we were weird but seemed really glad for the money. He even agreed to let me keep his furniture. For what we were paying, he said he could just pack a bag and camp out in the new place until new furniture came.
But that wasn’t happening. His furniture smelled of a thousand different disgusting odors—some I wished I’d never smelled—and it had to go. Immediately. The guy also had some severely questionable artwork—lots of partially dressed women with motorcycles—and zero books. Tessa liked books. It was one of the first things
she did when going into someone’s house or room. She snooped on the shelves big time. She said that you could tell a lot about a person by what they read. Which I’d found to be accurate.
It took a few hours to finish taking all of his stuff over, but then he was out of our hair.
“Thank God he’s gone,” Cosette said. “If he checked me out one more time, I was going to call in my daggers.”
“You wouldn’t need them. I was getting ready to kill the douche.” The rasp in Chris’s voice had gotten deeper and rougher.
They started arguing over what the worst thing was about the guy, but I was busy staring at the state of the empty apartment. There were dust bunnies and dirt everywhere, and I didn’t even want to think about that bathroom.
I was a clean freak. I liked everything neat and tidy and in its place. That was one thing that Tessa and I agreed on. One of the many things.
My phone said it was nearly midnight. I needed cleaning supplies, furniture, sheets, towels, dishes, and a million other things to make this feel like a legit apartment. I wasn’t sure I could convince Tessa to come inside my apartment tomorrow, but hopefully, it wouldn’t take long. I was going to need it to look like I actually lived here.
I could go to a hotel, wake up early, and get everything I needed, but I wanted to be here.
No. I really wanted to be inside her hospital room, but that wasn’t allowed. She’d be confused as to who I was and why I was there.
So, the next best thing was to wait for her to come back here. From across the hall, I’d be able to tell when she was coming and going. Depending on the noise in the building, I might even be able to hear if she was watching TV or talking on the phone. I’d get to know her schedule, and then I could invite her over for dinner. Or maybe I could go to the coffee shop we found her in when she was studying. Ask to sit with her. She might agree.
Or she might call the cops because I’d gone full stalker on her.
Damn it.
I needed to be here when she came home from the hospital.